


Noseslide

by Randy_sensei



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chloe still in blackwell, Don't Ask, F/F, I like the idea of Max but pony tail, Max has long hair, Skateboarding, Skateboarding AU, alternate appearances, let me live my dream ok, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-06-09 21:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15276726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randy_sensei/pseuds/Randy_sensei
Summary: Max Caulfield, head ghoster and friend-avoider-in-chief comes back to Arcadia Bay, after five years in a city she lead a love-hate relationship with.Seattle was a mixed bag for her, but she's certain she's coming back to the Bay with a little more to her than before.Now all she has left to do is repair burnt bridges... Which is easier said than done, probably.





	1. Chapter 1

Max groans.

 

She spent the past few days in her room, writhing in anxiety over her trip back to the Bay, the weird, late-October heat (that is luckily but slowly giving way to colder weather) sure as hell isn’t helping.

It’s the last day before her departure, and all her things sit packed next to the door of her room.

She decided to go by herself to Arcadia Bay, stating _“I’m not a kid, you guys,”_ to her ever-reluctant parents who were adamant to bring her there, perhaps even revisit a little, themselves. But, Max assumes, they had plenty of time to do that when they helped move furniture in to the dorm. 

It's been five years ( _wowser_ )since Max last saw Arcadia Bay.

And… Chloe. Her, well, probably to Chloe, ex-best friend will _certainly_ be glad to see her…

_Right, Max, provided she doesn’t hate your guts with all her strength, she might._

Max’s pillow hits her forehead straight on; she groans into the pillow.

_Fat chance of that happening._

 

Max hears a knock at her door. “Yeah?" She answers the knocks.

It opens, revealing her mom on the other side, “Hey, Maxie. How are you feeling about tomorrow,” she asks, her head poking in.

Max is silent for a moment.

“Anxious. Terrible. Excited. All in one. A mess.” She groans against a pillow again, “I don’t even know how I feel, mom.”

Max’s mom, Vanessa, takes steps into her daughter’s room, seating herself on the bed, next to Max. “Aww, honey, why is that? Shouldn’t you be excited to go back?”

“I mean, I am, but… I’m anxious about what Chloe will say to me.”

Vanessa makes an ‘ohh’ type sound, and sighs. “Well, dear, you’ll probably have to face her eventually,” she says, getting up. “I know that’s not much advice, nor is it very helpful, but sometimes, these things are best faced head-on.”

At the door, Vanessa stops and turns; after a pause she says, “There’s not many ways to go about this, and truth be told, Max, I can’t imagine you not being friends with Chloe. You two were never one without the other,” she smiles.

“Try and get some sleep, will you, hun?”

Max grumbles something affirmative, her mom walking off after a “Love you."

_Tomorrow’s gonna be a very long day._

 

*** * ***

 

As the mileage number next to ‘Arcadia Bay’ on the signs gets smaller, Max’s heart beats faster.

 _You’ll be fine, Max,_ she tells herself, knowing full well that is _probably_ a lie. _You’ll be just fine._

Turns out, it was every bit a lie Max thought it would be. Her heart is close to jumping out, as she gets out of the now Seattle-bound bus.

It's a relatively dry day, but the overcast clouds over the Bay are a telltale sign that that won’t stay that way long. Which is great for Max, she doesn’t wear much past hoodies. She sighs, tucking some hair behind her ear.

 _My hair has grown a lot… I wonder if Chloe will notice._ Max scoffs, _Anyone would be_ blind _not to notice, Caulfield. Better get a move on._

She reaches for something on her back and her hand comes back empty.

She stops and she groans, annoyed.

 

*** * ***

 

Max walks her way into town from the bus station.

After waiting a good ten minutes at a bus stop nearby for a bus to take her to the Bay and one that probably wouldn’t come, she sets out on foot.

Only for the bus to pass her five minutes into her hike.

She sighs with a stare that could probably rip through the bus if she willed it hard enough.

 _Luckily_ for everyone, she lacks the strength.

The Bay didn’t seem to change much from what she’s seen so far. The trees are still as sleepy as ever, the crickets are just as loud, but the setting sun reminds her of more pressing matters than taking in the environment, like admittance to her dorm at Blackwell.

She was so excited at first, to get accepted, and finally go back after so long. That feeling was soon replaced by dread, though, one caused by having to face the consequences of her actions in the form of a pissed-off best friend.

Max groans, tugging her hood over her face, hair getting in… everywhere…

Her best friend is rightfully pissed-off, too. Max’s anxiety at the time started getting worse, especially after their parting words; that’s the only reasoning of the _total_ lack of contact. A shitty reason at that, Max is sure, but… it's a reason. Max can just hope Chloe forgives her eventually.

Luckily, though, at that time, Max found an out. Something to get her mind off things. She hopes to be able to do the same here, imagining that Blackwell would bring a slew of different reasons to be anxious over.

Passing another bus stop, the temptation of waiting flickered again , but knowing her luck and knowing the town and the time, there won’t be another for a while. She groans when another one passes in between stops and decides to rough it out the entire way there.

The walk was shorter than she imagined, because Max finds herself on a hill overlooking a little part of Arcadia Bay, with a trail to the lighthouse on her right, soon enough.

She remembers that lighthouse fondly, the adventures she had as a little pirate coming back to the forefront of her mind.

At that point, the fatigue is getting to her, her bags digging into her small shoulders. But you see, Max is no quitter.

Okay, she is, but she _has_ to get to Blackwell.

 

Slowly, but surely.

 

*** * ***

 

_Oh, dog._

 

Max passes the diner. The _Two Whales_ Diner, still looking the same as ever, is a pang of nostalgia in a sea of new. Well, as new as the sleepy, sleepy Bay can get. Max can still very much recognize everything.

It still looks pretty much the same but it all just _seems_ new when you look at it through your own eyes again, rather than remembering it through memory. Max hopes she doesn’t spot anyone she knows, hoping she doesn’t see Joyce the most.  

If anything, Joyce would be the one spotting Max. Max still passes it with her gaze in the opposite direction from the diner.

Max eventually passes by houses familiar to her, none particularly important, just passing bits of memories. She remembers her old one _was just down that street, the street right next to Chloe’s,_ Max thinks, and reminisces, letting a small smile draw across her face.

Max also notices how she avoids even _seeing_ Chloe’s house, a cold sweat running at the mere thought of meeting Chloe under these circumstances. She prays silently it's still not the same half-blue it was always.

She releases a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding after passing Chloe’s house. A bit down the road from her house and just before Blackwell (she can see the very top of the school a little ways away) she spots something that draws _another_ smile across her face faster than she can think to put it there.

A skatepark.

Alive, with music, with singing, with laughing, with the distinct sound of skateboard wheels against pavement, with screams and yells and yelps, all cheerful in the signature skatepark way Max got used to.

After she’s done clutching the chain link fence like a toddler leaving a playground, Max moves on, but not without glancing back with the same wide smile multiple times.

Only at the third glance does she notice a splash of blue, and with that, the weirdest (yet coolest, simultaneously) hair color she's ever seen. _Seattle skaters are always subdued in that sense._

_I have to come back here, sometime._

 

*** * ***

 

_Here I am, I guess._

 

Max’s hands extend from her sides, and they fall with a quick sigh.

She stands in the front yard of Blackwell Academy, one of the most famous private high schools in the country. The very thought of being here (and on a scholarship, no less) is barely believable to Max.

She believes it even less while holding her room key in her hand, finally ready to ditch her luggage and enjoy some rest.

The yard of the school is nothing extravagant; small billboards featuring different shots in photography, different in both style and author, a notice board of sorts by the stairs  that lead to the dormitories, and the occasional bench and large trees dotting the paved space in front.

Max can see the gym from her position at the stairs in front of the school, but the directions to the dorm are the best information she received all minute; it was like music to her ears. She practically ran out of the administration office.

She has to will herself from almost running straight into the dorm, but Max instead chooses to walk her way, patiently, like a civilized human would. The path leading to the front of the dorms has a plaque next to it, that read _Prescott Dormitory_.

The name isn’t familiar. Max shrugs after a pause and an inquiring grimace trying to remember if the name rings any bells.

The front of the dorms are similar to the front lawn of the main school complex; nothing too fancy, benches with large trees and well kept grass. The right and left of the door is surrounded by shrubbery and colorful flowers. 

Max takes a deep breath, staring up at the building from where she stands, in front of the entrance itself.

 _This is it, Max,_ she thinks, and takes a step.

 

*** * ***

 

Two-nineteen, reads the key in her hand.

She walks the clean, untouched halls of the dorm, hearing whispers and laughs of people already acquainted through doors left ajar. Max sighs wistfully through her nose.

_Of course, Max the lone wolf won’t be making any friends because she’s terrible at that._

Lone wolf is a little bit of a stretch. Maybe anxiety wolf is a little more fitting? Yeah, probably.

Max smiles a little to herself; she was dead set on changing that fact, to break out of her shell, shrug that title off like a wet coat. Determination twinkled in her eyes, no matter how dim due to fatigue. It was still there, and that’s what mattered.

She unlocks her dorm room, taking note of the door slate on the outside, and walks in.

 

The air in the room was fresh, cold even, the room furnished with furniture brought in days earlier. A dresser, a desk, couch and bed, oh and Lisa, not to forget her.

 _Oh right, mom brought Lisa over last time they were here. Someone must have been watering her, she’s still going strong,_ Max thinks, running her hands across one of Lisa’s many leaves.

Turning, then huffing with a smile, Max leaves her guitar case across couch, her duffel at the foot of the bed, her backpack on the chair, facing the desk and messenger bag onto the desk itself.

She then falls _straight_ into bed. She was surprised with herself and her own strength, having carried all of that this entire way. Max kind of regrets wanting to go on her own.

And for a second or two, Max contemplates a nap. _Just a quick one, Max,_ she thinks, perfectly aware that she would probably just fall asleep for the entire night there and then.

She instead opts to leave the dorm with a light groan, locking her room and looking for a place to _relax._ She brings her messenger with her. 

The benches outside (the one only coincidentally, _only coincidentally_ furthest from the entrance) prove as a great spot to relax, that fact only further reinforced by the shot of a squirrel on a branch Max took when she got there.

She sat on the table, with her feet on the bench, the picture placed beside her after giving it a shake for it to develop.

Max soon starts writing into her journal, in reality, only doodling more than writing, because of the excitement mixed with dread, words escaping her to the same culprit. Her journal very nearly _flies_ into the air as she jumps.

“That’s a great doodle,” a voice pipes up next to her. With her hand on her chest, she turns to see a girl with a messy bun and a cardigan.

She giggles and Max notes how nice it sounds, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, i- it's fine, really,” Max chuckles, “I was just zoning out a little.”

“This is a nice photo, I take it you’re in photography?” She asks and extends a hand, “I’m Kate.”

Max takes her hand in her own after a little pause she uses to stare, and notes how nice her skin is, “Max, it’s nice to meet you.”

“It's nice to meet you, too. Sorry, again, for startling you,” Kate grimaces apologetically, handing Max the photo that was next to her a moment ago, “I swear I didn’t mean to.”

Max reaches for the photo, an awkward ‘thanks’ escapes her lips.

“It's fine, Kate, really. And… yeah, I’m- I’m in photography, under Mark Jefferson.”

Kate smiles, “I’m in that class too, even though I’m more interested in drawing, myself,” she says, running her fingers across the surface of the cross on her necklace.

Max notes how nice her smile is, and she’s confused with herself for a second.

“That must be nice,” Max procures shyly, and awkwardly. The conversation turns silent after a moment, Max looking nowhere in particular.

Kate breaks the silence a moment after. “Well, I’m glad I found someone to meet who didn’t slam their room door shut the moment they got here.”

Max sighs, “Trust me, I- I was close. I am pretty exhausted.”

And Kate giggles again, “I know how you feel, Max.” Kate gets up with that, “Anyways, it was nice meeting you, Max, but I’m gonna run back to my room and finish unpacking.

“I went to grab something outside and left all my things up there without locking the door.”

“Okay, Kate,” Max rubs at her elbow, “I guess I’ll see you in class.”

Kate giggles again, “I’ll see you too, Max. Bye,” she waves.

Max waves bye to Kate.

And then finds herself genuinely stunned at how easy that was. To make a friend, that is.

To be fair, Kate _did_ approach her first but, Max mentally shrugs, that doesn’t really matter right now.

Max is also… relatively confused. Kate seemed nice, but why all the noting? Max kind of wanted to see more of Kate, though, and she couldn't quite place why. 

Max is snapped out of her thoughts when she hears a cackle, and a splash of blue once she turns around, kind of like last time. The girl with blue hair tails another girl with long, blonde hair into the dorms. 

She spends some time guessing which classes she might have with someone with hair that interesting. And how much of a problem it must be for her in class, since she can't imagine teachers that don't mind hair dye. 

She shrugs and goes back to journaling, now kind of looking forward to her first day.

 

*** * ***

 

Finally content with the newly-added contents of her journal, Max looks up.

 

The sun has set almost completely now, the orange bright rays now giving way to the pale moonlight, slowly but surely. Max decides to run on in before the sun completely sets.

Dorm halls this time around are silent, compared to when she had arrived. Max assumes most of her classmates had gone to sleep. She wonders which room Kate’s was, and which one the girl with blue hair occupies.

Still unsure whether to lock her door or trust people and leave it open, Max locks her door, opting for the safer option, then leaves the key in the lock. She exhales, and ambles over to her laptop.

A quick notification to her parents that she’s arrived and Max figures she was free for a little longer. It _was_ only around eight PM, so she chooses to browse around, eventually getting to social media.

The idea to look Chloe up had only crossed her mind for a little. _A little._

But she shook the idea off as quick as it had come. It didn’t make sense. Max spent this long already without knowing anything… which only helped to deepen the pit in her stomach.

 _You, Max Caulfield, are a_ terrible _best friend… I just hope Chloe was okay after what happened._

Max slumps in her chair, taking a pause. She clicks off social media and debates her options in her head. She figures the best course of action, the one that avoids having her feel like a massive piece of shit again, is to just take a shower, be done with the night.

Max strips to basics, a t-shirt and shorts for sleeping, with her hair going free. Grabbing her toiletries, she prays no one has the same bright idea.

Luckily for her, all that awaited on the other side of her door was silence.

Seeing the _Showers_ sign on her way in, Max quickly made her way over there, and no amount of shorts would have helped that walk to the showers feel less _weird._ Max went in to the bathroom.

Three sinks with three mirrors, showers opposite that. The showers and bathroom were equally as silent as the rest of the dorms and Max felt a weight lift off her chest. She could bathe in peace, without having to commit to the act of _small talk_ . Max’s stomach flipped at the very thought of it.

A quick shower later, and the equally awkward and weird walk back, Max’s door shut again. Without so much as a thought, she slid into the made bed, pulling her phone out.

She apparently, in her absence, received an email detailing tomorrow’s plans for class.

 

Max went to sleep filled with equal parts of dread and excitement.


	2. Chapter 2

Max groans.

 

Her alarm goes off next to her, ringing combined with the sounds of a radio station.

 _“Good morning, everyone,”_ a soothing voice hums over the ringing, _“You’re tuned in to Imaginationland, and it's early in the morning on the first of September.”_

Max shifts, her hand turning off the alarm, leaving the radio buzzing as backdrop to her morning routine.

_“We hope you have a bright day, today. Along with that, us few at Imaginationland would like to wish the best of luck to everyone starting new terms in school in and around Arcadia Bay.”_

_Don’t remind me, please and thank you,_ Max groans internally, rolling her eyes at no one in particular. She utilizes the forearm across her face to gain some consciousness in a weak attempt at waking up.

Eventually, Max sits up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with a squeaky yawn.

_“The first song of the day starts shortly. Try not to sleep in, everyone.”_

Max wrestles her quilt for a good bit before managing to swing her legs off of her bed. Enough time passes where she just listens to the radio and the song it's humming, the beat to it something slow and drowsy. Kind of like this morning.

She stands up.

 _I wonder what the day holds, and all that spiritual crap,_  she wonders, stretching her legs, arms, then back, resulting in three crackles and a pop. _Ow_.

Max huffs and stares at the mirror attached to her dresser door, hair in a usual disheveled state.

She tries (and fails) to make it look like she didn’t just wake up, but under the rationalization that she doesn’t care, she gives up for now, choosing to just have a shower.

 

Max yawns, shutting the door of her room.

 

*** * ***

 

The morning air does Max’s hair style for her.

 

Max was the furthest thing from a morning person possible, which sucked, kinda, considering she always thought the morning to be very pretty, with a lot of good opportunities for a picture.

_Curse you for being so alluring and comfortable, sleep!_

She pats down her messenger bag as she is passing the Prescott plaque from before. The outside yard of the dorm shines with a lack of people. Max shrugs, assuming everyone is in the main building, already.

She decides to refresh the plan for the day, including the orientation guide Max had been given via email the night before. She distinctly remembers groaning being involved.

Max’s assumption was correct: the front of the school is very much alive, compared to the dorm, and not to her surprise. It turns out there is a lot of people in this school.

Few groups started to form, some talking amongst themselves here and there. People reading, on benches, on the grass, alone or in groups, people on their phones, either with someone on the other line of a phone call, staring intently at it or tapping away at it's screen with lightning speed.

Max’s ear perks up suddenly, and pulls her eyebrow with it. The footfalls joined with the sound of _wheels_ ; all of these are very familiar to her, so Max gravitates towards the source.

She spots a group of skaters, faint rock music giving way to conversation. Whether she intended or not, Max drifts towards them slowly.

 _Wowser, everyone already knows each other,_ Max swallows, looking around, _Can’t wait to be excluded, because spoiler alert, Max Caulfield sucks at making friends. Ugh._

Max stops a little ways from the group of skaters, choosing to lean against a people-free tree instead, wanting to avoid looking like a weirdo.

The one person in the group on their board pulled off a sick, yet wobbly, kickflip, and two people in the crowd cheered along with the person.

A smile forms on Max’s face, and figures that maybe the skater group might not be as bad. Curiosity getting the best of her, she looks on to others, and spots some obvious and stereotypical cliques forming slowly.

Rich kids, _ugh,_ the nerds, _her_ people, jocks, _blegh,_ and the quiet ones, so on and so forth, the whole nine yards. Max figures it makes sense that movie tropes got that down.  _Cliches are cliche for a reason,_ she thinks.

Max shrugs, moving her hoodie a little, trying to get comfortable and disperse the lead at the bottom of her stomach. At the same time, she notices something that makes her shoulders drop a little after she's done. Firstly, there’s no Kate (because she wanted to know a little more about her, having parted on (to Max) awkward terms) and secondly, no cool and flashy blue hair.

_The one time I feel sociable and the one person I’ve met so far is nowhere to be seen._

Kate was probably one of her few easily made friends, which were rare for Max. The one other was, of course, Chloe but Max didn’t feel like going down Regret Ave. right now, so she shuts that train of thought down _fast_.

Max’s expression darkens a smidge.

 _People say the phrase ‘burn that bridge when I get to it’ but what about crossing bridges that are_ already _burning? Or, well, have been burning…_

Max is brought out of her stupor by a tap on her shoulder, and a figure passing by. She spots a waving Kate on the path in front of her as she moves up to the staircase to the school.

Max waves back, and with that wave, a prim-and-proper man in a striped suit steps out of the school, and a security guard (with the most _ridiculous_ fucking mustache, Max notices) gets everyone’s attention.

“Thank you, David,” the suited man starts. His voice is deep and wise, the wiseness coming with age.

“I would like to welcome you all to Blackwell Academy,” the man drones, gesticulating, “the prestigious school of fine arts situated in the lovely town of Arcadia Bay.”

When the audible yawns start, they draw a smirk across Max's face. She notices a distinct color in the corner of her eye, and averting her gaze to it only proves Max right: rebellious blue hair with a blonde in tow. They blend into the crowd.

Well, as much as blue hair can blend in.

“You are all here on one account or another, but most due to your academic achievements. Blackwell takes pride in the fact that most of you, young pupils,” Max rolls her eyes, “are here due to your achievements and your achievements only. I am sure that this school is the place to cultivate your will to learn and excel in fine arts, so it may propel you into a brighter future.”

Max swears she can _hear_ the yawn digging its way up, and luckily stifles it.

After more droning that she really couldn’t bother to recall (Max probably couldn’t anyways) the man clasps his hands loudly, making Max jump just a little.

“Now, I am Principal Wells, and after that short introduction, you will be given a short tour and information on classes.

 

"After that you are all free to do as you please,” _Score,_ Max thought, “but for right now, please, follow me.”

 

*** * ***

 

The orientation ends some time later.

 

Letting a breath she didn’t know she was holding go, Max steps out of Blackwell, into the September breeze.

 _Man, that was tiring,_ she sighs _, I can already see the_ mountains _of homework in my future._

Giving her head a scratch, she looks around, again. Max spots the bus stop behind where the skater dudes sat, but also something else. Or rather someone else.

It's Kate, waving at her, and Max can’t help the grin that cracks her face a little.

“Hi, Max,” Kate chirps, as Max nears. Noticing how alive and energetic Kate looks after the orientation, it brings out a comment from Max. It was hard to understand how she managed it.

“Hi, Kate,” Max greets, rubbing her neck, “I-I’m not sure how you managed to stay awake during that but _teach me, please._ ” Max is honestly equal parts surprised and equal parts dumbfounded.

Kate just giggles at the question, “I don’t know, I guess I’m just excited for it, that’s all. I’ve always wanted to go here when I was younger.”

Max nods, “It was a pretty big dream of mine, too.”

The conversation, no matter how short lived, ends in comfortable silence, but Max and her social ineptitude  are frozen in place, trying to think of small talk.

_Say something, Max! She’s gonna think you’re weird!_

“I-I,” Max chuckles, “I’m glad the weather’s nice, at least.”

Kate nods, a simple enough answer, “I have to get to know Arcadia Bay a little better, I have no idea where anything is.”

“I used to live here, actually,” Max chimes, to which Kate’s face lights up.

“Oh, that’s neat! Did you spot anyone you knew here? Could you tell me about a cool place around here, please?”

_Next destination, Terrible Friend Blvd._

“I, uh, didn’t, though there are some people I’d like to see… but they might not want to see me.”

Kate’s expression softens, “I’m sorry, Max. I haven’t known you for long, but I’m sure it's best you find them as soon as possible, especially if you plan on being friends again.”

Max nods, thinking that makes a lot of sense," Yeah, thanks, Kate, and I agree. I-I just need time to piece my head together, what to say and all that.”

Chuckling weirdly, Max continues, "On the topic of places to see, I can comfortably say that Two Whales diner has the best food in the Bay, maybe even outside it.

“For sightseeing,” Max scratches her temple, trying to think, “the lighthouse. It's not too far from the diner and the view is incredible from there. There’s a place to sit, too.”

Nodding twice, Kate starts to respond. In that moment, Max spots the bus, the same one aiming for the stop in front of Blackwell.

Max pales.

“Kate, I-I-I’m _really_ sorry but I k-kinda need to grab that bus and- yeah, sorry,” she blurts, and without much explanation past that, speeds towards the bus.

Max manages it in the nick of time, and glances back to where Kate was to see her waving and walking from the spot they were in.

She breathes a sigh of relief.

 _I just hope she doesn’t mind me cutting her off. If I remember,_ Max thinks, while taking a seat in the middle of the bus, _I’ll ask her for her number._

Max immediately blushes.

_Not that way!_

Shaking away the blush, Max thinks to put her pair of earphones in. _That might get my head away from how awkward I am._

 

She sighs, and leans back.

 

*** * ***

 

A few stops away is as good enough a place to start looking as any.

 

Max gets off the bus, thanking the driver _(like a weirdo)_ on the way out, and glances right, then left.

The day is still young, noon passing only a few hours ago, a breeze blowing cold, yet slow and sleepy all the same.

The sun is providing barely any warmth, so Max hugs her hoodie against herself as the breeze goes by.

She passes houses and shops, convenience, tea, the entire deal. It doesn’t take long to find a skateboard shop, but what does take long is how much time Max spends in there.

Taking time to glance at all the boards, the quality of material used, the art on the underside of most boards, and taking time to watch the videos of tricks and famous skateboarders on the in-shop TV’s. Max realizes how much of a poser (or a wannabe) she must look like to the guy working the counter.

 _Jokes on him, I’m only_ kind of _a poser._ Even though she has to agree with those nonexistent ‘poser’ allegations: her current outfit screams ‘Hipster’ more than it does ‘Skater’.

 _Nothing wrong with my chucks,_ Max thought, staring down, _but they’re not for skating. Neither are the jeans, too skinny._

Max passes through the store for what is now her third time, and all other times she hasn’t noticed a reasonably priced, blank board with new, white wheels just sitting there, basically _beckoning_ her to it.

Beckoning or not, Max is staring it down. Her eyes are on the board, then on the price, and back.

The cycle repeats until the person behind the counter speaks up.

“Hey kid, you’re not gonna will the price down, either buy it or move on.”

He is right, Max realizes. She doesn’t need to will the price down, because she has enough money. It's just that her mom's words of _‘Don’t spend too much money on skating things’_ rang through her head.

 

Then it dawns on her. How would her mom know?

 

*** * ***

 

_There it is again, the skatepark._

 

Max smiles wearily. Her quote, unquote _trip_ exhausted her, and the coffee in her hand did little to remedy that. Her free hand, _on the other hand_ , gravitates to the skateboard hanging from her bag.

Most of her path has been uphill, rendering the board hard to test drive. Max figures then that it's best to postpone said test drive for a later date, anyways, having things to do in Blackwell, and also taking her tiredness into account.

Strolling past the skatepark, Max pats her messenger bag, to where her camera usually sat inside it, with her eyes on the inside of the park.

This park seems similar to the one back home: a bowl, a lot of rails, stairs and a combination of banks, flats and ledges.

People sitting around in some places, mostly on the edge of the bowl and in the corner of the fence furthest from where Max was, where some benches had been set.

 _I wonder how weird I’ll look if I take a picture._ The loud music was coming from something too small to make that kind of racket, and Max can hear people singing along to it and cheering.

The cheering is directed to the inside of the bowl, out of which sounds of wheels on concrete come.

Sure that, whoever is in the bowl, keeping the crowd captivated is a good choice, Max brings out her camera quickly and with a smile. Her next issue, though, is quite the challenge; the fence stood imposingly, separating her and a clear image.

Said fence is not very high, so Max can get both her arms and her camera over the top of it, and stand there on the little bit of raised concrete that acts as a fence base, looking like an idiot.

Blue hair erupts from the wall of the bowl, almost taking flight, and Max smiles at the opportunity. She aimed the shot _just_ right and, _click_.

_That’s going to be a really good pho-_

“You alright up there?”

Max all but screams, fumbling her camera and clasping onto it eventually with both hands, falling backwards a little after she grabs it, losing her footing.

With the camera secure, Max falls off the fence and onto the ground, with all breath lost. The polaroid she just took floats down next to her as she rises to take a knee while clutching her chest.

“Holy shit,” she mutters, _That was close. I almost dropped my camera._ Max places a hand on her chest after she’s done clutching at the camera, and regains her breath.

She feels a pat on her shoulder. “Are you alright,” and Max jumps a little again, but turning around this time, to face a wide-eyed blonde girl in a pale pink and white baseball shirt and a light brown flannel tied around her waist.

Max was out of breath _again_ , because wow, this girl was _beautiful_.

“Sorry I scared you,” she starts once Max is turned, then crouches to pick something up, “You dropped this.”

Max is suddenly back in the present when her polaroid comes back in the girls hand, “O-Oh, uhm, yeah, yeah that-that’s mine, I-I just took that.”

The girl looks the picture over while Max is sweating buckets and rambling, her face red with nervousness.

“Wow, this is actually really good. I honestly thought you were just some creep,” the girl says, still looking at the polaroid.

“I- wait, what,” Max asks, finally stopping her nervous rambling and terrible attempt at explaining she’s not a creeper, “Y-You think that photo is g-good?”

The girl nods, and smiles. Max’s world is suddenly brighter, “It's really good, you have a great eye.”

The girl hands the polaroid a flabbergasted Max dropped  before and offers a hand, and after only a little bit of awkward staring at it, Max takes it, and stands on her feet, dusting the back of her jeans off.

“Again, I’m sorry for startling you, like I said, I thought you were a weirdo,” the blonde brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and with it a bit of Max’s confidence.

“My name’s Rachel, and the person in the picture-

Her voice is cut off by another, a louder one, approaching around the corner. One that, if Max really, _really_ thought hard, sounded familiar. 

“Hey Rach is everything alright over here? Who’s that with-

Max froze _on the spot_ . _That’s_ why it's familiar.

 

“Max?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and reviews are very much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Max freezes.

 

 _Freezing_ being the understatement of the century. Max couldn’t move a muscle even if she wanted to.

Lord knows she wants to, but not to run, no, to _shield_ herself, from the wrath that is Chloe Price, also known until recently as Blue Hair and, coincidentally, the subject of Max’s latest taken picture.

Up close, Max has to admit that there's a lot more to Chloe than _just_ her blue hair. The strawberry blonde that Max has been so used to and could notice even after five years, is present in Chloe’s roots. The rebellious bright dye must be relatively old.

Past the metaphorical blue elephant in the room, Chloe had changed in many other ways. Max stood still, Chloe’s much more punk choice in outfit being the first change in her eyes.

Her usual attire of bright and dorky shirts with jeans have given way to something a bit darker, and more serious. And funnily enough a lot more _Chloe._ A purple flannel over a black tank top sporting a band design, loose jeans and white soled skate shoes.

Max blinks. _I have similar sneakers to those,_ she remembers, wondering how much time has passed since they’ve been locked in place like this. Chloe must’ve finished sizing Max up and down, because she is the one breaking the silence growing over their heads first.

Chloe shakes her head, with her palm to her forehead and her gaze still fixed on Max, “I think that’s enough blow for me, I’m starting to see shit.”

Rachel, in the meantime, keeps glancing between the bluenette and the brunette, mostly out of confusion, trying to piece what was going on together.

Chloe decides to humor Max and sticks the gaze a little longer. Max just swallows nervously in response.

_I have no idea what to say._

“Oh!” Rachel exclaims, in realization as the pieces fall into place, “Isn’t this the Ma-”

“Max goddamn Caulfield,” Chloe starts with a little venom at the tip of her tongue, which makes Max sweat _harder_ , “Is that actually you? I don’t believe my eyes.”

The venom fades as quick as it gets there but Max doesn’t stop sweating, even with the venom passed. 

Max swallows again, pinpricks going down her throat this time around, and moves a rigid hand to wave, choosing to squeak something out along with it.

“H-H-Hey Ch-”

Out of all the things she expected, out of all the scenarios she had planned out on sleepless nights, and out of all the imagined scream-fests shot her way, getting swooped in a giant hug in which her feet leave the floor is not one of the situations that came to mind in this occasion.

The hug, albeit aimed to lift her up, is still very much Chloe. Max can smell cigarettes and beer mingle with the Price family household smell, even at this distance. 

Max would be lying if she said she didn’t miss this, even as she stands there, swept up and stiff as a plank with her hand in the still, rigid breeze rustling the dying autumn leaves of the trees around them. 

Eventually, Max slides down, still unmoving, and Chloe hugs her at a more normal level. Max reciprocates the hug, eventually, slowly and unsure of her response.

“I can tell you’re still an insanely awkward dork, so I figured I’d cross the distance for you,” Chloe says, into Max’s ear.

That gesture makes Max smile, just a little. They part, eventually, and Chloe’s hands stay on Max’s shoulder.

Max opens her mouth to say something but is stopped by Rachel, who is using Max’s new board to tap at her shoulder lightly. “I think this is yours?”

Chloe’s eyes widen to the size of plates and a grin breaks across her face, “Max, you skate?! First this long ass hippie hair-do and now this,” she teases as Max goes red in the face. She can’t tell if it's the teasing or because Chloe touched her hair.

“Y-Yeah, I-I do. I h-had to b-”

“You're turning cool, Max. You have to show me how you skate,” Chloe cuts her off, moving to Max’s side, her hand snaking around her shoulders as they speak and start moving, “You owe me that much for ditching me.”

Max splutters words as Chloe drags her closer to herself by the neck, but nothing comes out. Max is a nervous mess, and this keeps up until something does.

“Thi- That-That’s not m-my board, I ha-haven’t ridden that board yet. I left mine b-back home.”

“Oh come on, Max, don’t just get one to stand around with it, you'll look like a poser,” Chloe replies, giving Max a slap right between her shoulder blades. Max stumbles forward, and gears grind in her head, “Show us a thing or two, don’t just strut around with it.”

The impending doom of being stared at while skating looms over Max. She feels like the September air gains a few digits in temperature within seconds.

“Chloe, you of all people know the dangers of going into the bowl on a board you’ve barely ridden,” Rachel chimes in, cheekily with a smirk, "Need I remind you of the countless injuries I had to fix up for you?”

“You _like_ patching me up, though," Chloe calls behind her. Glancing back with a chuckle, she turns, with Max in tow, “Where are your manners; Max, this is Rachel Amber, Rachel, this is Maxine Caulfield-”

“ _Never_ Maxine-”

“Max loves it when you call her by her full name,” Chloe continues to tease, and Max finds herself smiling despite herself. She grins even harder at the familiarity of it all, "Make sure you always call her that, she loves it.

“And besides, Maxaroni and Ra-cheese,” Max rolls her eyes with a chuckle as Rachel groans loudly, “I never mentioned the bowl, I’m not _that_ heartless.”

“I beg to differ,” Rachel retorts, as Chloe dramatizes.

“Darling, you wound me so. And besides, just some showmanship is all I had in mind to subject Max to, nothing too insane. 

“Or would it be show-woman-ship,” Chloe ponders then shrugs, “Even if Max is just a poser, we can change that super easily," she follows up, ruffling Max's hair. 

Rachel giggles, ”Nothing better than professor Price giving Max a crash course of the arts of _not_ being a poser.”

“Oh please,” Chloe starts, "You make it sound like I can skate for shit. Besides, there are better teachers.”

“Yeah, sure, and I’m the Queen of England,” Rachel jokes. Chloe laughs, and Max can’t help but laugh a little too, since she finds herself always succumbing to Chloe’s contagious laugh.

Rachel ducks over to look Max in the eyes and Max blushes slightly at the gesture, “Chloe is insane on a board,” Rachel flips up the polaroid from before, “and this is just proof of that fact. She just likes playing the modesty card.”

“I can hear you down there, you know.”

“Oh I know. Say, what’s the weather like up there," Rachel retorts to that, glancing up at Chloe. 

It hits her, then. How easily this went by, how fast she’s all but made up with Chloe, how they’re laughing and joking together again, but this time there’s an extension to the antics and her name is Rachel. Her being there feels as right as it possibly could.

Max only has to live through doing tricks not just in front of Chloe, but the entire squad of skater bros, too.

Her veins freeze up to ice and Max goes rigid. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

 

Right?

 

*** * ***

 

Max got to know most of the skater posse Chloe and Rachel have going on.

 

Well, in reality, she remembers Justin and Trevor, while the other names completely fade from her knowledge as soon as the person with that name leaves the conversation. Said group is smaller than what Max had imagined.

When Chloe finishes the contents of the brown bottle in her hands, she claps once she leaves it back where she found it.

“Right,” she starts, jumping up and gesturing at Max with a flourish, “Dear Max here, _as punishment for ditching me,"_  Chloe lowers her volume, then, eyeing Max up for a split second, “will prove to us that she is not a poser.

“Because for all I know the teens up in Seattle haven’t seen a skateboard past their Starbucks order,” she quips quickly and a few people in the little group laugh.

Max exhales, taking deep breaths.  _You got this, Max,_ she thinks, prepping herself up a little after standing up as Chloe gave the rest of her little speech.

Chloe goes to say something from the little bench she’s seated at but Max cuts her off by kicking… well, _off._

Max gives the board a makeshift trial run, turning left and right on flat ground, unsure still what to think of the board and how it behaves. She obviously didn’t have the time to tune it like she prefers her own setup, but she figures there’s no going back now.

Coming to a stop to think over what to do, Max surveys the area and imagines her route and what to do. What she has in mind is simple and reasonable when using a board for the first time. At least to her.

She sets off once again, some ways away from a rail, and Max sets her first trick in motion. Nothing too hard: she kicks up the board by the nose; just a simple nollie, nothing extravagant. Max notes how loose the board feels under her feet. 

The trick comes out safe, just like she wanted it and Max thinks ahead of her next trick.

Gaining more speed, she lowers her stance on the board, and after cruising a bit, Max shoves the board by the tail away from her as her foot at the front of the board goes up, as to not get hit in the ankle by the board while it does a one-eighty under her. Max lands back on the board without losing much of her balance after that shove-it.

The rapidly approaching rail that Max has spied earlier is further away than anticipated, which gives her some time.

Max decides to top off her mediocre display by jumping off her board, and letting it go under the rail by itself. She lands back on it, when they both cross to the other side of the aforementioned rail.

 _I'm really not used to this thing,_ Max thinks, _it feels weird,_ and decides to end the show, the heel of her back foot hanging off the tail. She clamps the heel on the ground, bringing herself to a grinding stop.

 _These won't last long if I keep that up,_ Max shakes her head as she takes a look at the soles of her chucks.

The cold sweat hits her pretty hard. A moment later her hearing is treated to cheering and hollering from the group, the enthusiasm between the cheer varying drastically, the enthusiasm of course spearheaded by Chloe and matched by Rachel only, with the rest of the group either not caring as much or being too blazed to cheer more.

“That was dope, Max! I knew you weren’t a poser,” Chloe chimes with a smile when Max came back around to the groups resting place.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen a hippie jump,” Rachel says, with a smile of her own.

Chloe laughs. “It fits. Makes sense I’d see it be done by the biggest hippie I know,” she says after, her laughter settling and Max chuckles along at the comment.

Unsure what to say, Max decides not to say anything as they settle into comfortable silence, and somewhere along the line, comfortable conversation.

The day itself was getting close to done, as a new member joined the group, with more brown bottles, similar to the one Chloe had finished earlier in the day.

Max was offered one and politely declined, and got promptly called a lightweight. By none other than Chloe, _of course_.

Somewhere along the line, Max also tuned up her board, tightening the trucks and making sure the rest of the setup was up to her liking, and with this, also tuned out most of the conversation.

The most ‘stoner’ guy Max has ever seen, Justin, was a big help to her, both with the tools she needed and to help her with the tune of her board so it's similar to what Max had back home.

Max is comfy with the adjustments after a trial run or two, all runs supported by the cheers of the rest of the group.

Rachel got Max on board to bother Chloe until she’d do a run, on the pretense that what Max would see would probably blow her mind.

Being Chloe, she just shrugs it off, or claims she is too tired with chuckles and wave-offs. Rachel fake-pouts for the longest time.   


Sunlight comes and goes, and as very late sunset rolls around, they decide to start going back to Blackwell.

 

*** * ***

 

Chloe, Rachel and Max walk down the hallway of the dorm.

 

Rachel points to her room, two twenty, “This one’s mine. That one,” she gestures to the adjacent one, “Is Chloe’s, if you couldn’t tell,” then motions to the slate next to Chloe’s door with a smirk, “by the very obvious evidence.”

Chloe’s slate _is_ obvious evidence of her residence, like Rachel had said; the slate showed a skull with a markered-in mohawk, a doodle of a skateboard, an anarchy sign, and a few other doodles, some even purposed as sexual innuendos.

Those bring about a tint of red to Max’s cheeks.

With her board against the door to her room, Rachel huffs, “I don’t know about you guys but,” and yawns, “I’m beat.”

She gets on her toes to leave Chloe a peck on the cheek, which Chloe leans into a little. Rachel waves, "It was nice meeting you, Max,” and finally retreats to her room.

Max only realizes how silent Chloe has been in past conversations until the silence is all to be heard. That silence, standing between them, is jostled barely by noise coming from other rooms, behind closed doors.

It's only probed when Chloe inhales long and hard, just as Max was going to say 'sorry’.

“Max, I… I’m not mad. I’ll tell you that now, I’m not mad. I was outright pissed at first when I saw you because it all came flooding back but… I’ve been seething enough for it to not matter anymore.”

Max stands, with her mouth ajar. She was going to say something but isn’t able, due to not wanting to cut in on what Chloe has said, “I know you’ve never had a way with words, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you were trying to piece something together this entire time.

“But I forgive you. It wasn’t an easy decision to make considering how long I’ve been mad but… You’re back and you’re finally _cool,”_ this makes both of them chuckle, and Max’s chuckle is the loudest and most earnest one she’s had since five years ago.

“Chloe, I-I’m _really_ sorry, I-”

“Max, hey, it's alright,” Max, unknowingly, has gone in for a hug, "I haven’t been the best either.” She’s fine with it when the hug connects.

“No, Chloe, that was a terrible time to leave you alone, I-I’m a terrible friend for what I did,” Max sniffles, “But you’re right, I’m here now and I’ll try and make it up to you.”

“You being here is enough making up than you need to do, Max. And hey, that’s the most pieced together thing you’ve said all night,” Chloe chuckles as they break up the hug.

Max blinks, then chortles herself, "Y-You’re right.”

“Say,” Chloe breaks the comfortable silence that has slowly been taking over the space between the girls, “which one’s your room?”

“Oh, uh, it's two nineteen,” Max points, "so were all close to each other.”

“Makes it easier to bother you,” Chloe smiles and waves, reaching for her door, “I’ll catch you in the morning, Max.”

Chloe turns back though, having more to say.

“Hey,” she starts, "If you’re still there when I wake up, and when I’m sure I’ve not gone bonkers, I’ll touch up that new board of yours if you let me.

“In exchange for that, though,” Chloe continues, "you have to give me the picture you snapped of me in mid air earlier today. Deal?”

Max blinks, "Y-Yeah, yeah, sure, definitely. And trust me, I’ll be here. If y-you wanna walk to school in the morning, just knock, and check for yourself.”

Letting a moment pass as Chloe eyes the girl up, she chuckles once it ends, “I’ll take you up on that.

“Good night, Max,” she calls, and retreats into her room.

With Max’s wave at Chloe’s retreating form, she shuts the door behind her, and Max lets loose a breath she’d been holding since Rachel spotted her.

When she enters her room, Max elbows the light next to her in absolute exhaustion.

Her fatigue has reached such a stage that Max can _feel_ the pointer on her social meter breaking past the _E_ on its dial and into uncharted territory of emptiness, that shouldn’t be allowed logically.

This day has not been what Max has expected.

And despite her weariness, Max decides to spend  a mindless few minutes on her laptop with music humming in the background before she goes to crash.   


Her brain spends that time processing everything that happened, and Max can’t help but smile like an idiot the entire time as she crawls into her bed.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Max yawns.

 

The Sun’s gentle rays filter through the autumn breeze and beam through Max’s curtains, and through her dorm room window.

And straight across her face. Because of course, that’s just her luck.

Max (sadly) knows all about not getting any sleep due to Mother Nature and her evil ways of sleep prevention. Provided the Sun had anything to do with Mother Nature, or if that was a whole other mother entirely.  

She groans against her pillow when she turns away from the rays, and wiggles out of their way. Once they’re falling onto the pillow next to her, Max turns to look at her digital clock, the judge, jury and executioner of what’s left of her sleep.

Six fifty nine.

_Fuck._

The sound of her head hitting the pillow again is almost in tune with the buzzing of the alarm next to her. She doesn’t react, and continues to stare at her suddenly very interesting ceiling.

 _“Good morning, citizens of Arcadia Bay. You’re tuned into Imaginationland,”_ Her hand lands over the top of the clock, silencing the alarm.

 _"For_ _this morning, we have a nice start to an even nicer day. We hope you enjoy, and have a good day,”_ and the hand slides off the alarm, onto the floor.

To the soothing words and song, filled with strings and calm voices, Max opens her eyes, and lets reality set in, slowly but surely. She sighs, and moves to get up.

_Another day, here I come._

Once she’s seated upright, she stretches, thinking over the events of the passed few days, still not fully believing that Chloe had forgiven her that easily.

 _I can’t help but think there might be a catch,_ Max shakes her head, _I feel terrible for thinking so, but…_

She sighs again, letting the coattails of those thoughts float away.

 _I wonder how today’s going to go,_ Max thinks, sauntering to her desk, bringing her laptop out of sleep with a flick of the finger across the laptops touchpad.

Max realizes that her table already looks like a bomb was dropped on top of it. She wonders how she managed this feat only two days in. Countless excuses came to Max’s mind to act as an answer.

She starts to remember fondly; her dad is the one she got that habit from. Her mom was the one doing the berating. Max chuckles, as she fishes a hair tie out of the disaster zone that is her desk.

It's the one Max likes, blue like the sky, which makes her smile just a little wider.

Once her laptop is awake, Max scrolls through her messages, like every morning, and eventually distracts herself enough to find the schedule for the day.

_Okay, nothing too hard, nor too boring. Though Science is going to be a pain, I can tell already.._

Once she stands up, Max reaches for her toiletries and, in her sleepwear, goes outside, and to make her way towards the showers.

The door closing behind her, Max is reminded why she gets up that early. The dorms are similar to her own house in this regard, something of an early-bird-gets-the-worm situation: no one is up this early, so the showers are _completely_ people free.

Or at least she hopes they are.

Max shuffles to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep out of one eye. A yawn escapes her by the time she reaches them, and her footfalls echo across the clean, tiled floor of the dorm bathroom.

 

She enters the shower furthest from the door.

 

*** * ***

 

_“-sincerely do hope none of you have slept in. It’s now seven twenty, on the dot, as we segue into the rest of the day with Dutch Criminal Record.”_

 

Max’s dorm room door clicks behind her, feeling refreshed and more awake.

 _I know this song,_ she thinks with a smile, and, while swaying to it, goes about the rest of her usual morning routine, adapting to Blackwell life as she goes.

Fishing out her clothes for the day, she hums along. A baggy hoodie, her favourite jeans and that one pair of high ankle skate shoes she got for her birthday when she was a year into living in Seattle.

Her clothes lay on the bed as she fishes out her bracelet from the same disaster zone, and a thought pops into her head.

 _Man, I hope Chloe never comes in here. I’m not living this down if that happens,_ Max thinks.

Hitting the toes of her shoes against the floor to make herself comfortable, Max hears something slide under her door. With a confused expression, she turns to find a folded over piece of paper, and reaches down to grab it.

_Meet me outside when you’re up! XO Rach_

 

Max huffs, _Looks like Rachel’s up too. She must not have heard me use the shower._

Checking the time again, Max, with one fell swoop, plucks her phone, headphones and messenger bag, shoving the rest into the last, and turns off her radio.

Messenger bag adjusted, and her hair up, she takes a step outside, to find Rachel waiting for her, leaned against the wall in between her own and Chloe’s dorm rooms. With her attention to her phone, she taps away at it, lightly, until Max’s door clicks into place again.

“Hi, Max! Good morning,” she greets, with a smile on her face as her head raises to meet Max’s eyes.

And, Max is kind of rendered speechless? She couldn't really describe it herself, even if she tried. Rachel is basically what you think of when you hear the word ‘beautiful’ and Max? Max is a mess. In almost every sense of the word.  

Rachel, on the other hand, radiates nothing but confidence and is as bright as the goddamn Sun itself. Max doesn’t understand how that works, but the smile makes it harder for her.

Rachel being Rachel, her fashion was the least of her issues: a white flannel, over a black top, capri jeans and a pair of older sneakers. Max could see Rachel being what people think of when they say ‘skater girl’.

That’s because Max also thinks that exact thing.

“U-uh, hey. Morning, R-Rachel.” Max locks her door, and with her face turned away from Rachel, she has a mini-meltdown, before straightening out and turning back, clearing her throat in the process, seeing as it barely worked.

“Sleep well?” Rachel asks, the corners of her lips upturning a little bit more from the vacant, neutral smile she always seemed to have, no matter what.

“Y-yeah, not bad for the first night. I-It's a little weird, but,” Max shrugs, “I’ll get used to it.”

Rachel giggles, “Yeah, I think it’s gonna be hard to get used to. I have get up super early because one doesn't just wake up this beautiful," she says, flipping her hair, jokingly.

Max swallows hard, "Uh-huh, I c-can imagine."

"Oh, yeah, I assume you got my little note," Rachel lightens up, continuing, "I need you to help me," she says, leaning towards Max just a little.

"Uhm, sure, Rachel. What do you need," a perplexed Max asks. Max can’t think of anything she’d need help with, especially this early in the morning.

"Well, Chloe is being Chloe, and it's annoying to get her to wake up every single time, until she gets used to waking up, and I need your help with banging on her door until she wakes the fuck up."

Max blinks, and laughs after a pause, "Oh dog, I remember how hard it was to wake Chloe up before, when we were kids. I can only imagine it's worse now than it was before."

Rachel saunters to Chloe's door, the one adjacent to Max's and smirks, "Let's find out, shall we?"

Max joins Rachel on the other side of Chloe's door, and Rachel clears her throat, before she starts to knock on the door really loudly.

"Chlo! Wake the fuck up!"

 _Man, her knocks are waking me up and I'm already awake_ , Max thinks, and ups the ante on the knocking of her own. She chimes in, "Come on, Chloe!"

A door behind them opens and a ball of something flies out, hitting the door in between Rachel and Max.

"Can you two shut the fuck up?! You're waking the entire dorm!"

Max, in shock, looks at the source of the yelling, the one that was equally as loud as their pounding. A girl with a blonde pixie cut and half her makeup on started at them with anger in her eyes.

Rachel laughs, Max looks between Rachel and the girl, while the girl continues.

"You dumbasses can't keep quiet at seven in the fucking morning! People are still trying to sleep!"

"Shut your trap, Vicky, you're being a bitch," comes from behind Max.

It's Chloe, with bags under her eyes and a white tee on her, "Your screaming is more effective than the noise these two made, so thanks."

"Eat it, Kari. You and your squad of _dykes_ can fuck off," Vicky barks back and slams the door.

Max is completely fucking _bewildered_. 

 

Without an idea what's going on, she looks to Rachel, as Rachel starts laughing.

"Welcome to Blackwell, Max," says a groggy Chloe that's standing right next to her in the now open door, "Thanks for waking me up. Or, rather, waking Vicky up and then, by proxy, me."

Chloe pats Max on the shoulder, now with her door open and in her sleep wear. They both turn to Rachel as she straightens out and stops laughing. When she does, Max is still wide-eyed.

"Oh my God, I love doing that to her, so much, holy shit," Rachel says, wiping a tear formed in the nook of her eye.

Chloe chuckles, "Yeah, but something tells me she might be pissed."

  
Her laughing fit continues and Rachel supplies, "Gee, I wonder what makes you think that."

*** * ***

  
"So, Max, looks like we have Science together." Chloe starts as the trio walk down the path that takes them from the dorm to the main building of Blackwell, to where their classes are held.

  
Max hums affirmatively, her concentration pointed at the schedule on her phone. Max takes another look at today’s schedule, then sighs, and puts away her phone.

"And you've got Photography with me!" Rachel chimes in after the pause. The trio can see the halls of the school bustling with people already, from the bottom of the stairs at the front, and Max can feel her anxiety creeping in like the chill of winter would on a dewy morning.

Chloe, who apparently has a natural sense for insecurities filed under _“Max”_ , grips her closer to herself with an arm over her shoulder. Max goes pink at the gesture.

"Oh calm down, Mad Max, you'll be just fine. Your first few classes don't sound boring, and then you get one of us in the rest of your classes for the day,” Chloe shrugs, “Nothing to get anxious about."

To those words, Max swallows down the building anxiety, and nods furiously, chuckling awkwardly, "Sorry, I had a _little_ bit of a turbulent start to my morning."

Laughing, Chloe replies. "Tell me about it. But you have nothing to worry about. Old bag Vicky is mad at the two of us, not you.”

Sighing, Max asks, “H-How do the two of you know her anyways?”

Rachel shrugs to this question, in a comical way, with her hands upturned at her sides.

“She’s an Arcadia Bay local, her parents own a gallery here and in a few other places, _which we should take you to._  I don’t know what’s got her panties in a twist but after… _something?_ ” Rachel comically scratches at her scalp, “she started acting like a major bitch to Chloe and I.”

“It’s not hard to explain really,” Chloe chimes in, her head angled to Max, and arm still over her shoulders, “it just happened one day. And that’s it. She used to be a lot more chill and a lot more cool back in the day. We almost got her to skate one time, but she fell on her ass and stopped trying.

Rachel laughs at the memory, her head tilting up as she remembers, “Oh my god, that was so hilarious when it happened.”

Pondering this, Max hums, “Weird.”

Almost in tune with her hum, the bell rings.

Chloe looks up at the bell and sighs, “That’s our queue, Maxi-pad.” She turns as she walks away with Rachel, “I’ll text you, dork!” The two lock hands, as Max gives the two of them a small wave, after which she takes to looking at all the numbers on the doors, unsure where her first class is being held. 

She finds the room, and after a deep breath, walks in.

 

Max, of course, takes a seat in the back of the room instantly.

 

*** * ***

 

Max yawns.

 

An astounding, _brain-shattering,_ _insane_ , two entire minutes have passed in this class, and Max is already bored.

Compared to how her morning started, she isn’t surprised one bit that English Literature, taught by a Mrs. Hall, a nice sounding, short lady in her thirties, is boring to her.

Max checks the clock. It's fifteen minutes into the class. Joy.

Usually, she finds Literature as a subject to be perfectly entertaining to her, but there’s something to today that Max can’t put a finger on that prevents her from paying attention for far too long, an air of excitement, so to say. But if she had to guess what caused it?

The anticipation, probably. Of the rest of the day and of being able to spend it with her best friend.

Even with that considered, Max _tries_ to pay attention and listens to Mrs. Hall drone on about the syllabus and how much Shakespeare and Poe they’re going to be working on. At one point, Mrs. Hall even mentions a screenplay, to which Max raises an eyebrow.

_I wonder who would audition for it, out of everyone here._

With that question, she spies her classmates, from the back of the room.

The girl furthest to her left is blonde with bangs, wearing fancy, somewhat expensive clothes. She keeps glancing at her phone like she expects something to pop up at her from it any second now.

With a mean look in her eye when she looks up, Max’s gut tells her to give this person a wide berth.

Moving on, the girl in front has a darker skin tone, is wearing a lazy, grey hoodie that looks like something Max would wear, and has her hair in a ponytail, similar to Max, only much shorter. The glasses finish it all off, and the eyes behind the pair of glasses look ahead with great attention. 

To her right is one empty table and another with a boy seated at its edge. A stockier, shorter build, glasses and a hoodie. Max notices an open notepad in front of him, as he’s hitting the edge of the pad with the eraser on the pencil in his hand.

Max thinks most of them look like an alright bunch. She hopes internally that she can make some friends properly, rather than sticking to a few, like back in Seattle.

Which reminds her, Kirsten and Fernando would appreciate an update on her situation.

 

Eyes wander away from the professor, and across to the windows overlooking the front yard of Blackwell, to find it deserted, which… _makes sense, Max, class is in session._

Which reminds her to check the time.

It is now twenty two minutes into the class.

Max sighs, and digs her head into her crossed arms on top of the desk.

 

_This is going to take a while…_

 


	5. Chapter 5

Chloe sighs. 

 

"Got any threes?"

"Nope."

Chloe hummed as Trevor sighed and shuffled around his cards after drawing one. 

"D'ya got any sixes, Trev?"

Trevor's head falls and he sighs, seeing as Chloe just gutted his once chance at a win. He pulls out two cards from his hand and gives them to Chloe, who, with the cards in hand, pumps her fist and smiles, putting the cards in place in her hands, between the first and the third card from the left.

"Thank you very much," Chloe thanked Trevor through a light giggle and bounced around in the spot, rearranging her cards further. 

Next to Chloe, is Rachel, sitting and going through her phone, smiling at it occasionally, the sound of Justin's skateboard mingling with the rock tune from the little radio located in the middle of all of them their background music. Chloe sighed, placing her head on the edge of the cold stone on either side of the stairs in front of Blackwell.

The three of them with Justin as the fourth were relaxing in front of the school, with not a single thing to do but wait. Their last period was over half an hour ago, whereas poor Max still had one to go before she got to leave. Chloe was starting to think they were the ones at a loss now, due to the unbearable boredom she felt. 

Chloe stares out at the autumn leaves above them and tries to think of things to do. She's skated herself out, for the time being, if she tunes her board any more she'll fuck the trucks up (even more) and her phone is almost dead, so no use trying anything on that.

Groaning aloud, Chloe whined.

"Guys, I'm beyond bored."

Justin rolls by at that moment to supply a “Join the club.” Rachel smirks, looking at Chloe from her seat directly next to her.

"Are you sure you're not just  _ board _ ?"

Chloe turns to look at her after a sigh with half-lidded eyes and a straight face, painted in boredom. Her hand went up to quickly flick at Rachel's nose, signifying Chloe’s annoyance with Rachel and her pun game. 

"You're lucky you're hot because your puns are awful. Keep the puns to the pun goddess," Chloe said and pointed to herself with one of her thumbs, while theatrically flipping her hair, before settling to give her cards a look.

Rachel sticks out her tongue at Chloe and lets her head fall onto her shoulder. From there she replies: “Well if you’re the one and only pun goddess, why don’t you use your divine power to figure out something for us to do while we wait for Max?”

“Because my divine powers only limit to pun delivery, not anything and everything, especially not relieving of boredom, otherwise we’d be doing something. Oh, goddess _ es _ I should say. Max is the other pun goddess.”

Trevor yawns before piping up as he places his cards face down on the concrete next to him. “Speaking of Max, when’s her class end?” to which Rachel replies after she checks her watch.

“Should be out in fifteen or so minutes. Should.”

 

Things are silent for a beat before they all collectively groan.

 

 

 *** * ***  

 

Max jolts awake at the sound of the bell.

 

_ I swear I listened to most of the class, _ Max thinks, rubbing the sleep out of one of her eyes. By the looks of things from where she’s sitting, most of the class dozed off much like her, the difference being only when. On the board is something akin to hieroglyphs, at which she squints and starts to pack her bags.

Pausing, Max looks around when her professor meets eyes with her. She packs up even quicker and dashes out of the door.

Once out, she lets loose a breath.

_ That was weird. Falling asleep on your first day is not your brightest moment, Max. _

What with it being the last class, the halls were moving quite quick with the influx of students eagerly trying to get the hell out of dodge. So, Max imagines, trying to text in the tidal wave of teenagers promised ailment from their boredom was probably not the brightest idea this side of the Mississippi as she stood on the sidelines of it all for now.

Max waits for a little, examining the ebb and flow of the crowd, and lithely manages to jump into a clear spot, following the group on it's way to the front door. She leaps out of the group and waits by the principal’s office, though, for the crowd to thin. From where she stood, she could already see the back of Rachel and Trevor seated at the stairs as the students dispersed.

Yawning, Max made her way outside, to be greeted with a collective cheer. Justin is standing at the bottom of the stairs and Chloe is between Rachel’s legs, leaning back into Rachel. Everyone’s hands are up and Max is weirded out.

“Finally! She arrives,” rejoices Chloe as she jumps up from where she was sitting a moment ago.

“Took you long enough, Max,” Trevor supplied, stretching.

“Sorry, guys,” Max starts, rubbing the back of her neck, “The last class was Maths. Everyone was asleep.”

“No surprise there,” Rachel said, putting her board down on the ground, “Ms. Wentworth’s classes are beyond boring. Now c’mon, let’s actually do something fun.”

“Yeah!” Chloe chimes in, “We’re headed to the Two Whales on skateboards. All the way over.”

Chloe bounces in place as she reveals what the group was doing, to which Max… looks away awkwardly.

“Um, s-sorry to burst your bubble, Chloe, but I have to go get my board, first.”

Chloe’s head sagged after a moment of pause.

“Really, Max?” she asks, her head still pointed down.

Max confirms with a hum, “But it won’t take me long. Besides, it’s not my fault, seeing as someone needed waking up.”

“Don’t you pin this on me, you little hipster,” Chloe pointed out, leaving a playful punch on her shoulder and smiling, “You should be bringing your board everywhere. Didn’t they teach you anything in Seattle?”

Somewhere along that line of conversation, they started moving towards the dorms without even meaning to. 

“Chloe, I could count the number of times you forgot your board back home on one hand, but I’d need the other by the time I reach half,” Justin quipped, nudging along on his board. Chloe pushed him off after the quip, though, to which the rest couldn’t help but laugh along to.

“Max, why not go ahead,” asks Trevor, gesturing towards the dorms, with his board under his arm, "We can wait up a little more right here."

“I was about to ask that, you don’t all have to come with,” she says before she bounces off towards the dorm after getting the collective go-ahead.

 

"Thanks, guys," Max calls back behind her as she leaves, "I'll be quick!"

 

*** * ***

 

Max sighs, tying her hair up.

 

Running, lithely, Max manages to make it to the dorm entrance relatively quick from where the group stood at the end of the path. On the quad in front of the dorm, she can see two of her classmates, Dana and Juliet, sitting on a checkered blanket in the middle of the grass.

They spot Max and wave, to which Max only responds in passing: a smile and a wave.

On one of the benches near the entrance to the dorm, she could see Nathan Prescott, the boy she’s only heard about in passing, mostly with the last name, seeing as it's in a lot of places around the Bay and on the dorm plaque she  _ just  _ passed. He doesn’t seem bad, at first glance, just bristly to approach if anything. 

Though, Max doesn’t plan on it. The rumors and whispers already around him give Max the vibe she needs from him to stay away. But, after all, it is only the first day, so she has no idea how things are going to go. 

They do lock eyes at one point, Max giving a small smile and a wave to which Nathan responds by just looking back down to his phone before Max reaches the dorm entrance. She shrugs the limited interaction off and bounds up the stairs. 

Slightly out of breath, Max unlocks her room to retrieve her skateboard, locking the door again on her way out. She walks from her door with her back turned to the exit and sighs in relief, finally able to get off campus and go hang out with her best friend. Or is best friend _ s  _ a term she can use yet? It might be too early for that. 

_ Jeez, Max, it's the first day and you're already itching to get off campus. That’s saying something about how the rest of this year will play out.  _

Though, after turning when she locks her door, she comes almost face to face with a really expensive looking white shirt and a short red tie. Her eyes pan up to meet a pixie cut and a flash of realization dashes across her face.

Victoria.

"Well, well, well, Maxine Caulfield. Fancy meeting you here," she starts and Max swallows hard.

"H-Hi, Victoria," Max eeks out.

And to that, Victoria scoffs, "No surprise you skateboard too since all of you hippies do."

Victoria leans down to face Max fully, eye to eye, and Max can't help but take a step back and almost walk through her door, swallowing out of fear this time around. 

"I don't like being woken up. You are ought to watch yourself before I make your life hell, Lamefield," she says, making her point by digging her finger into Max's collarbone almost as if she's accusing her of something.

Max blinks, not really sure what to say, to be honest. I mean c'mon, what does one even say?

"S-Sorry, I-I guess?" Max replies in a small voice, eager to get the hell out of dodge.

Victoria retracts her hand and her nose shoots up with a 'hmpf,' "Like I said," she starts again and, "Watch yourself," finishes with a snide tone, looking over her shoulder. Afterward, she walks away like nothing happened, ducking into what is probably her room.

After a moment of just standing there like an idiot, Max remembers she can move.  _ Jeez, that was like coming out of a cutscene,  _ she thinks, rubbing at her neck and making her way down and out, lightly chuckling at her own reaction along the way.

 

The walk back is uneventful and not very long at all, go figure.

 

*** * ***

 

"And then he has the gall to call  _ me _ the bitch," Rachel finishes from her seat on the tabletop of the patio set she's on with Chloe next to her. Chloe breaks out into a laugh as soon as the story finishes, and Max shows up just at the end of it.

 

As Chloe's giggling fit comes to a halt, Rachel waves, "Hey, Maxipad, that was quick."

Max sighs, “Yeah,” tracing a hand across her forehead to wipe the small amount of sweat building as she approaches the same patio table. Behind them, she can see Justin and Trevor taking turns doing tricks and matching each other.

Chloe manages to calm down enough to ask Max what's wrong, seeing as Max looks a little shaken.

"I had a- uhm, comfortable run-in with Victoria," Max sighs again and shakes her head, "I almost forgot she was in one of my classes earlier."

Rachel and Chloe make a noise of revelation as Rachel gives Max's shoulder a supportive pat and supplies it right after. "That must have been nice, I'm sorry," she laughs, "It's my fault, since I got you to scream at Chloe with me to wake her up."

"You're right, since you couldn't call me like a normal person," Chloe interjects, leaning back to lay on the tabletop.

"I did and got nothing out of it," Rachel replies, sticking her tongue out at Chloe again. Chloe's response was to do the same.

"You guys ready to get going, then? I don’t know about you but I'm starving," Max asks, looking in the direction Justin and Trevor and Rachel and Chloe follow suit.

"Oh yeah, let's go. I’m starving too."

Justin is standing on the sidelines in the grass, holding his board up as Trevor attempts whatever Justin did beforehand. There are people walking by, careful not to get in their way or get hit.  Chloe cracks a grin and Rachel, walking next to her notices the grin and moves a little to the side, sighing. 

“Uh oh,” she utters before Chloe catches a big run up and speeds by both of the guys, making Trevor lose balance and Justin stumble backward and almost fall on his ass. Chloe calls behind her as she flies by the understandably surprised pair, laughing. 

 

“Let’s go, fuckers, the road isn’t gonna hit itself!” 

 

*** * ***

 

When she thinks about it, Max thought that skating all the way to the Two Whales was gonna be an annoying experience, which was… not the case. The roads were surprisingly kind and her board gratefully cooperative. 

 

Though, Chloe was right when she said they’d work up an appetite on their way there, on top of the one they already had. Max is a person that’s always ready to nosh, but skating for that long and laughing almost the entire way there?

Yeah. She was beyond starving at this point. Everyone was, in fact. 

The cheer was probably audible inside the diner as the entire group all skated by outside it at once. They shot into the parking lot as Chloe, the first to arrive, opened her car door and provided sanctuary to skateboards aplenty while they all ate. 

Max is the last to put her board in and, as she makes her way to the diner, wipes the sweat from her brow. She stops, looking across the water at a beautiful early sunset. From her bag, she procures her Polaroid camera, the ancient piece of tech, yellowing a little in the plastic. 

The feeling and weight of it was a nostalgic and comforting feeling to Max. All the years of use the camera has seen were obvious by that same plastic’s weathered state. Max flicks the viewfinder open and aims the shot across the water. 

But suddenly, there’s a Chloe in her shot. 

“Photobomb!” she goes, jumping into the frame. The photo is still taken and, with a smile, Max develops the picture by giving it a good shake. 

“Photohog, more like,” Max quips, inspecting the polaroid. It's a rather nice one, made even better with Chloe’s presence and her wide smile. Chloe asks to take a look with a hand slung over Max’s shoulders. 

“Dude,” Chloe starts, yoinking the picture out of Max’s hands and going towards the diner, “I gotta show Mom this one. I can’t believe you’re still so painfully analog.” 

Max blanks at that notion and almost whimpers, “W-What? Chloe! I-It’s not even any good!” 

“Haven’t you learned anything from your Seattle hipster yuppies? Don’t they have new world tech over there?” 

Chloe sadly isn’t listening as she cackles, entering the diner and calling for Joyce. Max laughs and sighs her way up the three steps to the diner and catches the door before it has a chance to close from when Chloe flew it open. 

The nostalgic blast of heat and smell hits her like a slap across the face, the difference being this one is old, full of memories and actually enjoyable. Whereas a slap is less so. Go figure. Taking steps further in, she sees Chloe waving her over. 

“Come on, Max, booths this way,” she calls and it is. Everyone is all seated at the booth Max and Chloe used to rule over back in the ye olde days. Max smiles something goofy as she approaches their childhood booth and slides into the spot next to Rachel. 

Justin, Trevor, and Rachel are all already engrossed in a conversation, so Max sits, awaiting Chloe and, inevitably Joyce to pop into view at one point. Chloe does come back though and leaves the polaroid in front of Max as the other hand places a loose chair into place as the fifth to their table. As she reaches for it though, Rachel manages to catch her off guard and beat her to it. 

“Hey!” Max goes when she sees Rachel’s hand swoop in for her polaroid to inspect it, “Give it back!” 

“No, Max! I wanna see,” Rachel starts, keeping Max at an arms length and inspecting the photo, “After that one you took of Chloe when I met you, I wanted to see more! You have a talent for this stuff.” 

Max eventually crumbles with a sigh as she places a palm across her face, hiding a small smile under it. “There’s no winning against you guys.” 

“It’s good you caught that early on,” Rachel supplies with a smile, pats Max’s head and slides the photo across the table in front of Max. Max swears she’s hit with deja-vu when the same thing as before happens. Chloe’s blue-nailed hand glides in from nowhere and grabs the polaroid. 

Max just sights this time but when she hears what Chloe’s doing, she doesn’t really know what to think. 

“See, Mom, I told you it's a great photo.” 

“It is, hun, but a polaroid? The one person I know who still uses those–” 

As Joyce was saying that, Chloe moved to the side and gestured with a flourish, revealing the line of sight between Max and her mom. Joyce had caught on obviously and stood there, dumbfounded. 

“Maxine Caulfield, is that you or do my old eyes deceive me?” 

“Hi, Joyce,” Max waves with an awkward smile, patent of Max Caulfield, “It’s great to see you again.” Max stands up when Joyce gestures for a hug. 

“I see you joined this merry band of bandits, too. What brings you back here, Max?” 

Scratching her head, she replies wearily, “For Blackwell, but for Arcadia as well. I’ve missed you guys a lot.” 

Despite Chloe’s somewhat audible scoff (and then groan, judging by the punch Rachel delivers across the table) Joyce still smiles at her reply, hugging her. “We’ve missed you too, hun. Plenty. It’s great to have you back.” 

When the hug disconnects, Joyce goes to Chloe and snags the offered polaroid from her raised hand. 

“Now, Max, I hope you’re not particularly attached to this picture here because I’m going to steal it and stick it,” she moves to the corkboard where it reaches over the counter, “right here.” 

Max chuckles, shrugging when she sits back at their booth, “Sure, Joyce. There everyone can see it.” Meanwhile, Chloe groans, her head falling forwards as she sits in the chair, with it's back facing the table. 

“Had I known you’d put it there, I would have just given it back to Max,” she shakes her fist, “Darn you, Mother, you betray me.” 

“You’re going to have to deal with it somehow, honey. That’s the best picture I have of you in recent times that doesn’t look like a mugshot,” Joyce quips back from behind the counter to the ooh’s of everyone at the table around Max. She comes around again with a few mugs of hot coffee and leaves them all on the table with a smile. 

 

“Alright kids,” she says, hands readied at her pen and notepad, “What do y’all want to eat?” 

 

*** * ***

 

The group stayed at Max’s and Chloe’s childhood booth until the night fell. 

 

They drank, ate and laughed what little of their day they had away, and Max, at the end was in blissful pain, her jaw hurting still, after laughing at Chloe’s last joke. Sure, it brought about a blush because of its inappropriateness but still, Max laughed hard, as did everyone else. 

At some point, Justin and Trevor, set on leaving a little earlier to catch a party, sprint out of the diner after a bus they see stop across the street, just the one they needed. The three girls were set on leaving together, but Rachel had other plans. Sometime later, when her dad’s car pulled up, she pecked Max on the cheek to get her to move and left Chloe with a little bit of a deeper kiss. 

That peck did the opposite by stunning Max, though through Chloe’s hard work, they managed to lodge Max out of place for Rachel to leave the booth. She waved away as she left, giggling at the still stunned Max. She snapped out of it eventually, and Chloe chuckled. 

To the sound of the bell above the door settling finally, Chloe got up to place the chair she… magically procured from somewhere back in its place. The bright, LED lights across the diner ceiling lit up slowly as the last bit of Sun set over the horizon. The diner was almost empty, save for Max, Chloe, Joyce, the staff and a handful of other patrons. 

After placing the chair back, Chloe slumped into the booth opposite Max with a thud and an exhale. 

“Man, that was fun,” pipes up Max after a beat of silence. 

Chloe hums something affirmative, finishing off the last of her milkshake, then reclining against the diner seat once she leaves it in front of her, with only scraps of the shake left inside. She sighs again, staring wistfully out of the window with tired looking, lidded eyes. Max ducks her head when the blush creeps slowly once after she realizes she’s staring. 

For the first time in a…  _ an _ ever, Max has no idea what to say around Chloe. One time she can almost remember being speechless around Chloe is that one spin-the-bottle game where they kissed. That’s one. But that was weird for her because of how much Max enjoyed it. The next few nights after that sleepover were low on sleep and high on think. 

But this is odd, uncomfortable almost; it would have been so if they weren’t in one of the places that ooze nostalgia in Arcadia Bay for Max. She rubbed at the back of her neck, unsure as to what to say in this situation. 

“This is weird,” Chloe pipes up, the first of the two to do so while Max gathered the strength, “the two of us finally back together after such a long while and neither of us talking.” 

Max squirms, a little uncomfortable and mad at herself, “I’m under the impression you’re still mad at me.” 

Laughing a little, Chloe waves that idea away, “Please, Max, I told you. I’m over it, water under the bridge.” 

They fall into the same sort of silence as before, and Max spends it thinking about what she did wrong, then. Chloe beats her to the chase, though, because she continues in a moment. 

“I was just… stuck thinking about how we haven’t done this in a while,” she says and giggles, making something in Max’s heart light almost ablaze. It's dim, still, but it's there. Max smiles. 

“Yeah. It sure has been a while, the two of us,” Max supplies and pauses.

“Uh-huh.”    
  
“Chloe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.” 

“I know you are, you dork. I forgive you, though.”

Chloe smiles at this and finally turns to meet Max’s eyes. They smile at each other for a little while like idiots, and Max thinks she scored another chance at the not fucking up the best thing of her life. Chloe gestures with her head backwards, to the door. 

 

“Come on, you sap. It's dark, I’ll drive you back.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic may be all over the place with when I post it and how it moves along but I love it and it is my baby. 
> 
> thanks for reading and expect more at one point :v


	6. Chapter 6

Max groans loudly.   


She’s lucky the comfy confines of her dorm room are there to catch the sheer volume of her annoyance, but study-buddy-in-chief, Rachel, is not so lucky. She grimaces with a smile at the brunette falling into her bed with a thud and puts away the book that she kept in her lap where she sat on the couch, sliding her legs down to the side and standing up, coming to comfort Max. 

With a giggle, Rachel starts as she takes a seat next to her friend. “Max, I know you don’t like Math and I don’t either but you  _ have  _ to know this.” 

Max, from the bed, furiously rubs at her face, her own book discarded on the table she was tucked into moments ago, working on her awful knowledge of anything to do with numbers. 

“I know I have to know it, Rachel, but it’s so  _ boring, _ ” she elongates, her arms splayed above her. “Where’s Chloe?” Max asks, obviously in search of solace against this inane boredom that Math has brought upon her and Rachel, craning an eyebrow at her and smirking, unexpectedly throws the textbook onto Max’s chest, earning an “ow” from the small girl. 

“Uncool,” she appends, rubbing at where the textbook landed. 

“Don’t change the subject,” Rachel chides, wagging a finger, “I know you’re asking so she could whisk you away from boredom but she’s working.  _ And, you’re  _ only getting out of here once you have this figured out, okay?” 

Groaning further, Max rolls onto her stomach, comically kicking her legs before uttering a sassy agreement into the mattress of her bed. Rachel chuckles, standing up and petting Max, her long hair spilling everywhere. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom and you try and gather enough energy to think some more.” 

From beneath her veil of hair, Max sticks a tongue out at Rachel, the girl reciprocating the raspberry just as she leaves Max’s room. With the thud of the door, Max’s head falls back into the bed.

It’s been a good few weeks since Max had made amends with Chloe, the two girls patching up the burnt bridge the five years have left in their wake. The entire ordeal was much less painless than Max had anticipated but a part of her wanted Chloe to be more mad at her, because then it would feel like she got exactly what she deserved for what she did, but it’s not how things worked out in the end. 

The other part of her is glad that things fell into place the way they did because these weeks have been some of the most fun Max has ever had in her entire life, period. 

Just a few days after Max and Chloe’s Two Whales heart-to-heart, Chloe and Rachel took Max to the skatepark they had all originally discovered each other when Max was on her way to Blackwell, and there, the trio spent their time laughing, singing and just having a great time. At the end of the day, Max had worked up a sweat, was wearing a smile that seemed permanent at the time and increased both her meager roster of friends  _ and _ her roster of tricks. 

Chloe had been beside herself at everything Max already knew and Rachel was pleasantly impressed. This memory from not too far ago had Max smiling like an idiot every time, even now as a dumb little grin finds its way onto Max’s face with the intent to reminisce. 

There, she got to know Justin and Trevor a little better and to find out that the two boys are actually a force to be reckoned with. Trevor managed to hold his own in a game of skate against Chloe which to Max seemed like no easy task. For Max’s sake, Chloe took the time to explain the rules of the game and, basically, it all comes down to matching tricks for tricks until you can’t, and if that’s the case, you earn one letter. If you finish the entire word, you lose.

Trevor held his own, but in the all-in-all, Chloe had won two out of the three “matches” they had. 

From then on, the group spent a lot of time cruising, the occasional outing dotted with scouting spots for tricks. The further into the suburbs of Arcadia Bay one went, the more fun they had, which was more than one would usually say about the Bay. The suburbs and all it’s curbs, drops and heights proved a lot of fun, but the richer the neighbourhood, the more trouble the group came across. 

Max remembers being left in stitches when Chloe and Rachel went after Justin’s board when it got snatched by a particularly pissed off middle-aged guard with a bald head, after Justin bit it hard on a tough trick off a flight of stairs in front of a bank. 

Chloe and Rachel, showing no remorse or fear for the authorities mocked the man, then proceeded to take turns in joking around with him due to how rude he was being about the entire ordeal. They taunted him around in a circle, one getting his attention and the other going for the board hooked in his hand. Enough slaps across his head later, they managed to snatch the board and the entire group scattered, laughing along the way as the man attempted and failed to catch up. 

After that, their adventures in the suburbs for the day drew to a stop, the night ending back at the same skatepark, hours poured into recounting stories of skateboarding over some forty-ounces of cheap, shitty beer.

She smiles, hoisting herself up from the bed and turning her old hi-fi on for whatever duration Rachel spends in the bathroom and Max places in one of the CD’s Rachel had lent her, one Max had actually ended up liking a lot.  The song that played was something by PUP that Max couldn’t quite name yet, but her head bobbed and the smile permeated, anyway. 

Just a few days prior to today, before Max’s free time was soiled with the daunting deadline of a Math test, she had wiped out pretty hard after trying to take a picture on her board. It wasn’t a stupid wipe out, either, rather something she just managed to fumble after attempting to follow a trick Chloe had done in an attempt to get a really interesting shot for her Photography assignment. 

She  _ did  _ get the photo she wanted, yeah, but she also earned a pretty sick scrape across the outside of her calf and managed to bang her knee up along the way. Her left elbow wasn’t much better but her camera made it out alive. Smiling at the sensation of just remembering the injuries are there, Max sits down onto her bed again, the guitars and drums filling the air as her leg raises to the bed, Max’s fingers ghosting across the injuries, the pain only a dull but pleasant ache at this point. 

When Max laid back onto the bed and shut her eyes until Rachel came back, her mind went back to other memories, each one more joyous than the other but the moment doesn’t last long for her. 

There’s a pillow smacking across her face when the door opens and closes, letting a flanneled Rachel in. 

“Get up, dork, no time for sleepy-times,” she says, the adorableness of that sentence making Max giggle slightly as she sits up. 

“I’m not sleeping, just resting my eyes,” Max responds, rubbing the…  _ rest _ out of her eyes. She glances around sleepily, eyes coming to meet Rachel’s smirking face. 

Rachel rolls her eyes jokingly and with a smirk, “Yeah, that’s the same excuse my dad feeds my mom and me every single time. Now get up,” she adds, gesturing up with the fingers of her palm, “we have more math to do.”

Max groans, but not before grabbing her pillow to muffle it all. 

 

*** * ***

 

Max sighs upwards into the open sky. 

 

Tying her hair back messily, she hops down the steps in front of the dorms, following somewhat closely behind Rachel, Max’s skateboard hanging freely from her worn messenger bag, one strap from it wrapped around one set of her trucks, the white deck of the board sticking out against her choice in clothing. 

A toothy smile wraps around her face as freedom finally inches closer. Rachel had managed to teach Max a thing or two about Math and the pair, at one point, unanimously decided that this was enough for the day (seeing as there’s still more time until the test) and went outside to go have fun after they saw the Sun slowly come to set. The two were roused to action by Chloe’s text that signified that she was off of work, its arrival almost  _ perfectly _ timed. 

“Man, I’m so glad we’re done,” Max confesses to no one in particular, stretching her arms as they walk from the dorms to the open road. “I don’t know how much more Math I needed to go insane, but I feel like it wouldn’t have taken a lot.” 

Rachel laughs as she walks, her backpack bouncing with her shoulders, “Usually, I don’t mind studying but you make me realize what all kinds of things we could be doing instead.” 

Ignoring the stupid blush this throws across Max’s face, she laughs along. In the silence that ensues shortly after, Max pays attention to the longboard held tightly to Rachel’s back, secured to place by her bulky backpack. The deck of the longboard is elongated compared to a skateboard and, as Rachel had explained, was made more for cruising than doing tricks. 

The deck’s design is what keeps Max’s eyes occupied, though. The colors fade in from the bottom, the bottom starting in black but fading into a shade of pink you’d see across a sunsetting sky during spring, a flock of blue birds flying their way across the backdrop, a faint outline of clouds found in the same pink. 

After eyeing the design for long enough, Max thinks to pose a question to Rachel as they reach the bus stop, opting to bus a part of the way and skate the rest towards the park. 

“Hey, Rach,” Max starts, noticing how easily she fell into the nickname habits of her best friend and  _ her _ best friend. When Rachel hums a response over her shoulder, Max continues, “Who did the design on your longboard? It’s really, really pretty.” 

Rachel smiles at this and starts to reply. “Chloe did it for me, as a birthday gift a summer ago,” she says, eliciting a hum of awe from Max, “It’s really nice and she did this while practicing for her part-time job.” 

Max had heard of Chloe’s part-time job a few times and in passing only, with Chloe’s explanation that trucks and decks don’t pay for themselves and, truth be told, it made sense, but Max just wondered how Chloe managed to balance all the time she has to work with. 

Chloe once teased taking Max to where she worked after Max managed to guess that it was a tattoo shop. The bluenette explained on another occasion about how lucky she was to strike a paid internship at the parlor, helping with designs a few times and when she explained that a few days back, Max was beaming with pride for Chloe, glad that the girl was able to pick up her artistic skill from the dust and put it to good use. 

True, you couldn’t call the drawings the pair did when they were kids artistic masterpieces, but behind all the goofiness, there was true, raw talent to be had and Max only sees it thinking back.    


Rachel snaps her fingers twice in front of Max’s vacant eyes and snaps her back to reality. Rachel says, giggling, “Max, if you daydream that much you’re gonna end up walking into a pole or something.” 

Shaking her head awake, Max blushes lightly at being caught out while spacing. “Sorry,” she replies, “I was just thinking.” 

“You do do that a lot,” Rachel quips and they soon fall into a comfy silence, the bus slowly incoming on the horizon as Max takes a seat, Rachel bobbing around on the balls of her feet in anticipation. The bus ride over is necessary, Rachel explained once they were on their way down from Max’s dorm room, because from the dorms to the skatepark, it’s a little bit of an uphill and it can get annoying, tiring, and everything in between just to power up it. 

But, if they take the bus and stop a few stops short from the skatepark, they can still get some time on their boards on their way over. And besides, the way back is all downhill from the park, making it the best part of the trip.    


On the ride over, Rachel delved into details about longboards on Max’s behest. Max had seen them in passing in Seattle but had never made a friend that rode one around, so this counted as a first encounter with them despite it not  _ really _ being one. Rachel explains, short, sweet and concise, the differences between a longboard and skateboard (differences that aren’t the size of the deck) and explained to Max the basic gist, her hands hanging from the bar overhead inside the bus. 

The sheer size of the deck is the part that actively baffles Max the most, Rachel chuckling at the wide eyes Max gives her when she tells her the precise size in inches, explaining that it lands somewhere towards the smaller end of the spectrum when it comes to longboards, the largest one commercially available being almost  _ sixty  _ inches. Rachel also explained something about the different types of longboard decks which was actually super fascinating and made most of the journey fly by super fast. 

Towards the ass end of their journey, a comfortable silence fell between the two, with Rachel turning her back to Max in a split of events, something catching her attention through the opposite window of the bus. Max sees her chance in the moment and, with swift and practiced movement, reaches for her camera and snaps a picture of the back of Rachel’s longboard contrasting against the passing suburbs, the setting sun casting a shadow only the golden hour could cast.    


With the flash grabbing her attention, Rachel turns with a smile. “You’re really sneaky with those shots,” Rachel chides with a chuckle, reaching for the polaroid Max’s camera spat out a moment ago. Max’s eyes rest on the photo, tracing its development and taking in the beauty of the picture before handing it to Rachel. When she takes it, her eyebrows rise and a small smile shows itself. 

“Max,” she starts, her voice a little hushed, “this is  _ really  _ pretty,” Rachel appends, handing Max the picture back. “If it was any other situation, I’d be taking the picture as a keepsake but if you want my honest opinion, you need to save that for your portfolio.” 

The seriousness of Rachel’s look kinda takes Max by surprise, one of her own eyebrows reaching for the sky as if to signify Max asking ‘Really?’ 

The point of the gesture comes through to Rachel because she just nods. “I know the future is daunting and all that,” she starts with yet another smile, “but you still gotta think about it and all, y’know?” 

With the tip of her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth, Max looks to the picture, then back to Rachel’s expression and nods slowly, “You’re right,” she admits with a sigh, “Sometimes it's easier forgetting I’m a senior.”    


“It’s kind of like I told you way back when, in Two Whales, remember?” Rachel asks, “You’ve got a really great eye for this stuff.” 

The sincerity both confounds and confuses Max but it wasn’t a compliment she wouldn’t receive. At least in the seriousness of the moment it felt like a compliment, thusly painting Max’s cheeks with a light blush as she thanked Rachel, the blonde girl turning after smiling in response. 

After a moment of something like hesitation, the back of Max’s head meets the window behind her as she strays into her thoughts, trying to piece together exactly how Rachel can make something as daunting as the future in front of her seem so small. In the end, it just ends up on the piles of “Things about Rachel to decipher” Max already has stacked up in her head, and the bin for that’s overflowing. 

 

She sighs again, turning to look outside, a small smile slicing her face. 


End file.
